Life Goes On

When I was younger, my Dad made a comment that has just stuck with me... "Well I'm not growing up but I sure am growing out!" (as he laughs at himself.) The daughter in me rolls my eyes and makes some snide comment like "Ugh, whatever. That's so stupid, you're old. It's what happens," Simultaneously vowing to myself to NEVER let that happen to me...

For twelve years of my life I worked out a minimum of five days a week for at least 4 hours total. I was in my own kind of "Biggest Loser" camp- but not. I wasn't trying to lose weight- I was trying to gain pure muscle (imagine me saying that in my deep "Manly Man" voice with a little AARR at the end). That set my standards for being in shape pretty high. So what I'm trying to say is that outside of my current reality, I had NO idea how hard it was to stay in shape.

It's been almost one year since I've retired from Luge. And this is what I've noticed... my arms still look huge. I still get comments on the size of my thighs (which have no correlation to sliding, that's a gift from my parents). I think my hip bones are permanently shifted (from carrying my sled) so that my right one sits higher than my left. I can now wear some jackets because I don't have the back of a body builder. Butseriously, what the hell is this jiggle?

I feel fat in places I didn't know existed; in the crease of my elbow, right under my arm pit, around the backs of my knees. And I thought fat was supposed to feel squishy? Like a nice little pillow! No? Mine makes my muscles feel like I can't stretch anymore. Almost like there's a piece of cardboard stuck between my hamstring and my calf whenever I squat down.

I'm not saying that I hate my body, in fact I've grown to love certain things. No matter who you are though the grass always seems greener on the other side in some respect; unless you're playing mind games and lying in order to convince yourself- which I've been known to do on occasion. It's not bad! It's just DIFFERENT.

I voiced some of my concerns to my girlfriends who laughed at me, naturally. But the comment that stuck out to me was "WOW! you mean you're feeling "normal"' whatever the hell that means? I thought I had an idea, but quickly discovered I was being extremely naive.

Here's what I've deduced this whole thing to. I'm a control freak, except for when it comes to food and wine (again, another great gift I received from my parents!) But for years, I also ate like I was going to burn 5000 calories a day and I hate to admit it but now-a-days typing and staring at a computer just doesn't quite get me to 5000. At the end of the day all I want to do is sit on my couch, watch the news, and drink wine while eating crackers- when at the end of the day I should hop my squishy bum on a bike and pedal my little heart away!

Steve Holcomb tweeted/facebooked/whatever other social media he's got going that "Sweat is just fat crying" and it gave me 1. a ridiculous visual in my head and 2. incentive to make my fat cry. So like one of Lulu Lemon's mantra's I am pledging to myself to "sweat once a day" from here on out. Who's with me?